


Being Honest

by mistleto3



Series: The Things We Left Unsaid (lesbian!Sarumi) [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Reisaru mention, Rule 63, izuseri side pairing, mikototsu mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6396310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakuko and Misaki struggle to be honest about their feelings towards one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Sakuko is the name I chose for fem!Saruhiko, as it sounded the most similar, though Misaki's name is obviously gender neutral so has remained the same.)
> 
> This fic follows on from [Making It Real](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6248911) but can be read as a standalone fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and Seri take Sakuko and Misaki shopping for dresses for an upcoming Sceptre 4 party, and they can’t help but think how cute the other looks in everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a drabble prompt on Tumblr sent by anonymous: "Anna and Seri wants to take them shopping for girl time and they can't help but think about how cute the other looks in everything?"
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/141905181754/being-honest)

Sakuko hadn’t spoken to Misaki in almost a week; the last time they had seen each other was when Misaki kissed her on the cheek before bolting from her dorm room. Now, Sakuko sat on a barstool in Homra, waiting for the ladies of the Red Clan.

Since Izumo and Seri had gotten together, Seri had been spending a lot of time at the bar, and as such had assumed almost the role of an aunt to Anna. Of course, Misaki had always been closest to her. Being the only other woman in Homra and one of the first to declare their loyalty to Anna as the new Red King, Anna had been like a little sister to her, and as such Misaki was immensely protective of her. Especially since the deaths of Mikoto and Tatara, who had been the closest thing to parents that Anna had, the two girls had become very close. But Misaki wasn’t the most feminine of women and as such she couldn’t quite fulfil the traditional older-sisterly roles of giving her makeovers and suchlike. Seri had been more than happy to take up that mantle, and often painted Anna’s nails, or took her shopping for clothes or to get her hair trimmed.

Of course, Seri was aware of the close nature of Misaki and Anna’s relationship, and not wanting to step on any toes, had suggested that they all go out together, and that Sakuko should come too now that the pair had reconciled. “Girls only bonding time,” she had called it. Anna was emerging from a growth spurt, much to Misaki’s chagrin as there were now only a few inches between their heights, so she had outgrown most of her clothes, and Sakuko and Seri both needed dresses for an upcoming office party. Sakuko made it quite clear to Misaki that she would rather have done anything else; she hated dresses almost as much as she hated the idea of having to go to the party in the first place, and Misaki wasn’t exactly a massive fan of the idea of wandering aimlessly around a department store for hours. To her, nothing sounded more boring. But she was weak to Anna’s puppy dog eyes, and Sakuko was weak to Misaki’s pleas for Sakuko not to make her do this on her own.

Sakuko looked up at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs as Anna and Misaki came down from the apartment above the bar.

“Ready to go?” Seri asked, getting to her feet. Anna nodded eagerly, while Misaki made an attempt to force a smile and Sakuko merely clicked her tongue.

“Lighten up you two.” Izumo commented, trying to hide a smirk.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to spend the day pretending to know about clothes.” Misaki fired back.

Izumo merely chuckled in response.

“You don’t have to pretend Misaki, we know you know nothing about fashion.” Sakuko teased, gesturing at Misaki’s outfit.

“Oi!” Misaki protested, and Seri scowled at Sakuko, who hadn’t yet gotten out of her seat.

“Come on, get up. You need _something_ to wear to Zenjou’s leaving party. I know for a fact that you don’t own any dresses.”

“Who says I’m going to wear a dress?” Sakuko’s tone was bored.

“Well, do you own a suit?”

“…No.”

“Exactly, you need an outfit. Come on, it won’t be as terrible as you think.” Seri insisted.

Sakuko got to her feet, evidently having decided that protesting any further wasn’t worth the effort. The four ladies left the bar together, with Misaki and Sakuko trailing a little behind Seri and Anna. They walked in awkward silence; Sakuko wasn’t sure what to say to Misaki. She didn’t want to bring up the kiss- she was probably overthinking its significance. It was likely just platonic (though since when had Misaki been the type to be physically affectionate with her friends?), and Sakuko didn’t want to make a fool of herself by making it into more than it was.

Misaki didn’t appear to have noticed the awkwardness that emanated from Sakuko. She spoke as if nothing at all was different. “So what’s this party thing that Awashima-san mentioned?”

“Zenjou Gouki, a guy who’s worked at Sceptre 4 since the days of Habari Jin is retiring, and Munakata insists on throwing him a leaving do. He says that as third-in-command, I have to make an appearance.”

“Is that the guy with one arm?”

“Yeah, him.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad…” Misaki offered, though she didn’t sound too convinced.

“Will you be my plus one?” Sakuko said suddenly. “…It won’t be so bad if I don’t have to go on my own.”

“Sure, I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, you’ll probably hate being around so many Blues.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be there, and I’m sure Kusanagi-san will be Awashima-san’s date. I won’t be on my own. And if it comes to it I can rescue you if you get too bored.”

Sakuko couldn’t help but smile at that.

* * *

 

“Fushimi-kun, this would look lovely on you.” Seri commented, picking out a dress from the rack. Sakuko didn’t even bother looking at it, clicking her tongue impatiently.

“Actually, that one is kinda nice…” Misaki commented.

“Misaki.” Sakuko protested, evidently feeling very ganged up on.

“Would it really hurt to try one dress on? I have to do it.” She gestured to the dark red number in her hand. “So that I can keep you company at this party.” She added pointedly.

“Fine.” Misaki’s shameless guilt-tripping won Sakuko over; Misaki was giving up a whole evening to come to the party with her, the least she could do was sacrifice five minutes to try on a dress. Sakuko followed her friend to the changing room, ignoring the smug look on Seri’s face.

Misaki was the first to step out of her changing room, wearing a skater dress of burgundy lace with elbow-length sleeves and a skirt that fell to her mid-thigh. The bodice of the dress fit snugly to her frame, and flared out at the waist.

“Misaki looks beautiful.” Anna said with a smile.

“Give us a twirl, then.” Seri requested.

When Misaki spun on the spot, the skirt floated out around her.

“It really suits you. Shows off your legs.” Seri commented, and Misaki grumbled in protest. “What? I’d kill for legs like yours.”

Misaki clicked her tongue, her cheeks flushing pink. “Says you. You’ve got all…” She gestured vaguely at Seri’s torso. “… _that_ going on.”

“It’s really more trouble than it’s worth. I’d much rather have your figure.”

“I-I bet Kusanagi-san doesn’t think so.” Misaki huffed, and Seri laughed.

“You’re probably right about that. Not that it matters what men think of you, but you’re certainly pretty enough to get any man you want.”

Misaki gave a distinctly awkward laugh and averted her eyes, looking for something else to change the subject to, and right on cue the curtain of Sakuko’s changing room opened.

Before Misaki had a chance to say anything, Seri called to Sakuko: “Don’t you think Yata-chan’s pretty enough to get any man she wants?”

Sakuko froze for a heartbeat at the question, the curtain half-open, then clicked her tongue in response and came out of the stall.

Misaki’s jaw fell open in shock at the sight of her. The navy fabric of the dress Sakuko wore hugged the curves of her torso down to her hips, where it relaxed and fell straight down around her legs to brush the ground. The design was simple, with an illusion neckline, and a subtle floral lace appliqué over her chest. The back of the dress was cut into a deep V shape, the tip of which reached the small of her back, and was filled in with a panel of translucent navy chiffon and more of the lace. The fabric clung to her body in all the right ways, emphasising her slim, willowy figure and the curve of her breasts and waist. She looked almost elegant, which was not a word that Misaki would often use to describe her friend.

Misaki was speechless for a moment, her mouth still open, though thankfully Seri had filled the silence.

“I told you it would look good on you. It’s very flattering.”

Sakuko clicked her tongue. “You alright Misaki?” Her tone was distinctly bored.

“Holy fuck… You look…” Misaki’s cheeks burned dark red at the exclamation, and the realisation that she’d been about to call her friend _stunning._ “I-I mean, Awashima-san’s right… i-it looks really nice on you.”

Sakuko clicked her tongue again, though the ghost of a smile was just about visible on her lips at the complement.

“It fits really well. You should get it.” Seri commented.

“Nah. Don’t like dresses.”

“You spoilsport.”

“Skirts are impractical.” Sakuko pushed her glasses up her nose impatiently, trying to hide her face in the fear that she was blushing under the intensity of Misaki’s stare. Misaki hadn’t been able to draw her eyes away from Sakuko since she’d come out of the changing room.

“I wear them every day at work.” Seri pointed out.

“And you flash your underwear every day at work.” Sakuko countered. “If you’re okay with that that’s your business but I’d rather keep my drawers to myself thanks.”

Seri chuckled. “Fine, if you hate the dress so much, put it back.”

Sakuko clicked her tongue, keeping her eyes off Misaki. The disappointment on her flushed face was poorly disguised.

“What do you think of Yata-chan’s dress?” Seri asked before Sakuko could turn and head back into the changing room.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, it’s cute. Suits you.” She tried and failed to sound dismissive.

“Cute? Since when do you think anything’s cute?” Misaki grumbled.

Once again, Sakuko responded with a click of her tongue. “What do you want me to say? It makes your boobs look less small than usual?” She teased.

“Oi!” Misaki protested, and Sakuko chuckled.

“Just get the dress Misaki, it looks nice on you.”

“Stop calling me that!” Her cheeks blazed.

Sakuko laughed as she turned back into the changing room.

Misaki was still blushing when the pair re-emerged, back in their regular clothing, and she stayed mostly quiet as she paid for her dress and the four of them began walking to the store that Anna bought her outfits from. The compliment from Sakuko had made her feel almost… fluttery. _God, that sounds so stupid,_ Misaki berated herself internally. But she couldn’t think of another word for it. And it was weird; Seri and Anna had been much more complimentary of her, so why should she be feeling like this because of what Sakuko said? It couldn’t have been anything to do with the kiss on the cheek, could it? No, of course not, that had been platonic, a simple thank you for letting her stay over when Misaki knew Sakuko wasn’t big on allowing people into her personal space. _So why did you kiss her as a thank you then, idiot?_ She didn’t really know; it had just seemed appropriate at the time. Sakuko had obviously not been feeling quite right, she had looked almost… afraid, which was an expression that Misaki couldn’t ever remember seeing on her friend. Misaki supposed it was reasonable for her to be a bit scared; she had just come out as bisexual to the girl with whom she had just shared a bed. She had probably been afraid Misaki would freak out, and if she did then she could have lost her best friend all over again. Misaki didn’t know why she would have thought that though; Mikoto and Tatara had been a couple, and Misaki had never treated their relationship any differently to the way she treated Izumo and Seri’s. Perhaps it was because Sakuko was a girl, and she thought Misaki would be afraid Sakuko had been perving on her or something? Misaki knew full well it didn’t work like that; Sakuko didn’t automatically want in her pants just because she was attracted to girls.

Though, now she thought about it, Misaki wasn’t so sure. _I mean, she did compliment me. And Sakuko never compliments anyone. Plus, she let me cuddle up to her the other night. I dunno, maybe she took pity on me ‘cause I was pissed, but she seemed to be staring at me a lot in the morning, and I was half-naked…_

Misaki shook the thoughts out of her head. No way Sakuko fancied her. Sakuko was gorgeous; she could get anyone she wanted, man, woman, or otherwise. She could definitely do better than Misaki; Misaki wasn’t hot like Sakuko was. She was tall and slim (unlike Misaki, who was barely 5’2’’ and weirdly muscular for a girl), with gorgeous thick hair, flawless skin (compared to Misaki’s perpetually messy ginger locks and freckles), striking ice-blue eyes framed with a fan of dark lashes (against Misaki’s sort of muddy hazel ones), and a great rack, slightly on the bigger side of average but not whoppers like Seri’s (next to Misaki’s disappointingly small chest).

Misaki felt suddenly very embarrassed with herself, partly for comparing herself to Sakuko like a jealous idiot, and party for thinking about Sakuko’s boobs like some kind of creep. She glanced over at Sakuko, and found that she had been looking at her, and their eyes met awkwardly. Sakuko quickly looked away and clicked her tongue.

“You know, you’re blushing Misaki.”

“It’s too warm in here.” Misaki grumbled hurriedly.

Sakuko chuckled, slipping her hands into the pockets of her coat. “No it isn’t. Then again, you’re like a little space heater.”

Misaki couldn’t help but blush deeper at that; Sakuko had said the same thing when Misaki had slept over, and for her to so candidly make reference to it made Misaki embarrassed. She berated herself again internally; she was just being silly. If Sakuko was willing to talk about it so easily, that meant Misaki was definitely making more of it than there was.

“Fushimi, this store sells nice ladies’ suits; why don’t you go pick something out and then catch up to us while we go and look for some dresses for Anna.” Seri suggested.

“I’ll go with Sakuko.” Misaki offered quickly.

Sakuko nodded, and the group split into two. Misaki was mostly quiet while Sakuko wandered amongst the racks, then finally picked something out, after having picked up many different outfits, given them a critical look, and then put them back.

“You alright Misaki? You’re quiet.” Sakuko observed as they walked to the fitting rooms.

“Hmm? Yeah, fine, just uh… thinking what I’m gonna wear with my dress.” In truth, she had been pondering the significance of her sudden thoughts about how pretty Sakuko was. Well, it wasn’t exactly sudden, Misaki had always thought Sakuko was pretty, but it was sort of different now. Because Sakuko was interested in girls, so now she knew she had a chance? _What the fuck are you thinking?_ Misaki shook her head slightly.

Sakuko chuckled at the obvious lie. “Misaki, you’ve never spent that long thinking about shoes in your life.”

“W-well, I want to make a good impression on your co-workers.”

“It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? You’ve already kicked the crap out of most of them at some point or another.”

“…Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.”

Sakuko rolled her eyes, then handed Misaki her jacket and her phone. “Hang onto these while I get changed?”

“Sure.” Misaki took a seat in the waiting area in the dressing room while Sakuko went into one of the stalls. She twiddled with the phone absently as she waited, and her thumb hit the power button by accident and the screen lit up. The photograph Sakuko had set as her lock screen was of her and Misaki when they had been out together the week before. Misaki didn’t remember taking the photograph, but it was definitely her holding the phone, and those were the outfits that the pair had been wearing that evening. Misaki was grinning at the camera, her arm around Sakuko’s waist as she pulled her close to fit them both into the frame. Sakuko had her own arm draped around Misaki’s shoulders, though she was looking at her friend rather than the camera, a small smile playing on her lips.

Misaki jumped when Sakuko came out of the stall, fumbling to turn off the phone.

“What do you think?” Sakuko sounded distinctly bored. The suit she had chosen was dark navy, with a white blouse underneath. The trousers were slim-fitting with a high waistband that emphasised her long, slender legs, the buttons of the blouse were unfastened just far enough down to display a little bit of cleavage, and the jacket was tailored to the curve of her waist. It made her look quite sophisticated.

“I-it looks nice. Really suits you.”

“Ha ha.” Sakuko laughed sarcastically at the bad pun.

“I-I mean it!” Misaki said indignantly. “I mean, I still prefer the dress, the dress was really pretty, but the suit is great too. Makes your legs look nice.” She pressed her lips together, her cheeks reddening.

“Since when do you notice ‘pretty’?” Sakuko managed to disguise most of her embarrassment with derision. “Or know what makes people’s legs look nice?”

“W-well, you are pretty, and you’ve got nice legs. Just because I’m dense doesn’t mean I don’t know that.” She grumbled. “The clothes just kinda show it off I guess.” Her face was bright pink.

“Yeah, you too.” Sakuko said quietly.

“Huh?”

“I mean you’re pretty and you’ve got nice legs, idiot.” She clicked her tongue. “I’m gonna get changed.” She returned to the fitting room before Misaki could say anything else.

“I-I’ll go look at the shoes.” Misaki called weakly through the curtain, and Sakuko heard her stumble as she hurried back onto the shop floor.

* * *

“Wow, Yata-san, you look amazing!” Rikio observed from behind the bar, where he stood cleaning glasses.

“T-thanks.” She grumbled, her cheeks reddening, though the embarrassment didn’t quite feel the same as it had been when Sakuko had complimented her. With the red dress she had bought, she wore a thin black belt around her waist, sheer black tights, and a pair of black ankle boots with much higher heels than anyone had expected her to be able to walk in. Seri had styled her hair into loose waves and done her makeup for her, though she wasn’t wearing much, just a little blush, lip gloss, and some eyeliner, but it made a huge difference from the Misaki that the rest of Homra usually saw. “Feminine” wasn’t usually an adjective they’d use to describe her.

“Is Kusanagi-san around?”

“I’m here.” As if on cue, Izumo opened the door leading to the apartment above the bar. “Just making sure Anna’s got some money in case she needs anything while I’m out.”

“You shouldn’t worry about it Kusanagi-san, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Rikio offered.

“Thanks.” Izumo said with a smile, then turned to Misaki. “You scrub up well, Yata-chan.”

Yo had come in from the back room while they were talking, and he let out a long, impressed whistle. “I’ll second that.” He agreed with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Rikio elbowed him before his eyes could wander any further.

“Watch your damn mouth Chitose, or you’ll find out what it feels like to get kicked by a chick in stilettos.” Misaki threatened, and he put up his hands defensively.

“Sorry, sorry.” Yo said sheepishly.

“Ya better be. Let’s go, Awashima is waiting for us.” She said, turning to Izumo.

They said their goodbyes to Yo and Rikio, then headed outside where Seri waited in her car for them, and they drove to the hotel where the party was being held.

* * *

The three of them arrived before Sakuko, and Misaki found herself resisting the urge to text her. She had said she would be there by eight, and it was already quarter past with no sign of her, so Misaki found herself getting antsy. Of course Sakuko wouldn’t stand her up at the party she had invited her to. Right? Misaki stared at the doors, tapping on the glass in her hands restlessly, much to the amusement of Izumo.

When Sakuko finally arrived, Misaki almost dropped her drink in shock. Instead of the suit she had bought, Sakuko entered wearing the navy dress she had tried on but ultimately put back. Misaki almost didn’t recognise her at first, but it was definitely Sakuko, just with everything that was beautiful about her emphasised tenfold. The dress clung to her figure. Her dark hair was twisted into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck, and as she walked over to Misaki, the small heels she wore clicked against the tiles. Her subtle makeup emphasised the shocking blue of her eyes and the shape of her high cheek bones. Misaki had never seen her, never seen _anyone,_ look as beautiful as Sakuko looked to her right then. Her face was bright red by the time Sakuko had reached them.

“Sorry, my taxi was late.” She explained in a bored tone.

“That’s alright. You haven’t missed the first dance” Seri said with a smirk.

Sakuko clicked her tongue. “Didn’t expect to see you in heels Misaki.” She teased. “How long do you think you’ll last before you break your neck?”

“When you’re my height you get pretty good at walking in heels.” Misaki grumbled. “Besides, you’re one to freakin’ talk about unexpected outfits!”

Sakuko merely rolled her eyes dismissively, a small smile on her lips at Misaki’s flustered reaction, but Reisi tapped on a glass to draw the attention of the guests before she could respond. Misaki tuned out his speech, her gaze flickering back to Sakuko in her dress every few seconds. She could barely stop staring at her; it was so _weird_ seeing her dressed up like this, but God, she was stunning. Not that Sakuko wasn’t normally beautiful, because she was, but the way the dress flattered the shape of her body, the way the twist in her hair showed off her long neck, and her faintly smiling lips were highlighted with a subtle sweep of lipstick… Misaki thought she was in love.

Not that she hadn’t always loved Sakuko. Even when they had hated each other, even when she was bitter and angry and hurt, she couldn’t disassociate Sakuko with the best friend she had grown to value above anyone else. Misaki had missed her smile the most, and now that things were better between them, it surprised her every time she saw it. She loved making Sakuko laugh, craved so badly to see her happy. Whenever Sakuko opened up to her a little more, or displayed her trust in Misaki, it made Misaki feel so privileged that she was the only person in the world who ever really got to see that side of her. The lazy nights in that they spent playing video games on Misaki’s couch, eating takeout and teasing each other playfully, were the nights that Misaki valued the most. It was like old times again, except even better, because they were better at understanding each other, and Sakuko had escaped the toxic environment she’d grown up in and found a clan where she really fit in.

What surprised Misaki was not that she loved Sakuko, but that it ran deeper than she had expected. She had always wanted to be by Sakuko’s side, but now, noticing for the first time how really honest-to-God beautiful she was… Everything made a lot more sense now. For a while now, though Misaki wasn’t entirely sure how long, the desire to be with her had been accompanied by another desire that was similar but not quite the same. Especially since that night that Sakuko had let her sleep in her arms, Misaki had wanted more of that closeness, she wanted to see more of the side of Sakuko that nobody else saw. The affectionate, open, trusting Sakuko who had long since been hidden away under a layer of protective armour so thick that nobody had been able to chisel through it. The desire to see that side of her, to be the only one who saw that side of her, was different to the simple desire to spend time with her. The particular kind of pain she had felt when Sakuko had left had been somehow different to any other she had felt. The guilt she felt when she realised how much she had hurt her had been different. The happiness she felt spending time with her was different. The tightness in her chest when she had kissed her on the cheek…

Misaki almost laughed at herself. Shouldn’t it have been obvious? Her relationship with Sakuko had always been different to that with anyone else, and it wasn’t like she didn’t know she was into girls; she’d known for years. Anyone else would have put two and two together a long time ago; no wonder Sakuko called her dense. Looking back, Misaki had sort of known her feelings for her friend were something different to friendship for a long time, but she had vehemently denied it every single time the possibility had entered her mind. In middle school, she denied it because she didn’t want to involve another person when she hadn’t even figured out her own sexuality. Then because she denied it because surely you can’t be in love with someone if you hate each other, and finally because they had at last started to get together the components of a good thing here, and she didn’t want to ruin it just as they were rebuilding their relationship by confessing to being in love with her.

Misaki couldn’t help but feel somewhat embarrassed by her epiphany, because it wouldn’t have been an epiphany if she had just been honest with herself in the first place, however many years ago. Still, having finally realised it and not having it weighing on her in the back of her mind as it had been for months now made her feel lighter. Or perhaps that was the glass of wine she had just drunk, much faster than she knew she should have with her low alcohol tolerance. Or perhaps it was a bit of both.

A sudden feeling of pessimism settled on her. Even though she felt better now, maybe having acknowledged her feelings would only make things more difficult in the long run. Maybe the unrequited love ( _God, how’d I get myself caught up in that dumb cliché?_ ) would cause her nothing but pain. But it didn’t matter; the one thing she wanted even less than all of that was to ruin her friendship with Sakuko when things had finally started going in the right direction. She couldn’t lose her again.

There was an obvious solution to this: to not tell Sakuko. Just because she had come to an understanding with herself didn’t mean she needed to share it. Misaki felt better for having finally figured out what it was that had been bothering her, now she was no longer plagued by that uncertainty, she could leave it there. There was no need to make things weird between them.

Reisi’s speech had come to an end, and Zenjou gave a brief, distinctly awkward few words of thanks before the music started again, and everything Misaki had decided just a few moments seemed to vanish from her head as her favourite song started playing, and she found her fingers closed around Sakuko’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Sakuko asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You dragged me to this dumb party. That makes me your date, therefore you have to dance with me.”

“Are you drunk already? What are you taking about ’date’? We’re here as friends, idiot.” Misaki wasn’t sure if it was the low light or the makeup, or if Sakuko was blushing faintly.

“I’m not drunk. And dates can be friends. Come on, we’re here, we might as well have fun.” She insisted. Perhaps she was tipsy, or perhaps she was emboldened by the sound of her favourite song, or by the weight lifted from her shoulders by her recent epiphany, but she gave another imperative tug on Sakuko’s wrist, and her friend clicked her tongue.

“I don’t dance Misaki.”

“And three days ago you said you don’t wear dresses. Live a little.”

“…Fine. One song.”

Misaki twined her fingers with Sakuko’s and pulled her onto the dance floor, which thankfully was already populated by a few members of the special police force (who appeared to have been pre-drinking) so they wouldn’t be the only ones there, with all eyes on them. Sakuko swayed awkwardly as Misaki bounced on her tiptoes, her hand still gripping Sakuko’s as she danced enthusiastically, singing along with the music, slightly off key on the higher notes. Sakuko was obviously trying her best to exude boredom, but watching Misaki jumping around and singing and not seeming to care if she made an idiot of herself because she was having fun… Her lips twisted ever so slightly upwards at the corners.

When the song finally ended, Sakuko practically towed her off the dance floor before she could rope her into staying for another, though Misaki had noticed the slight smile on her lips. Perhaps she was just laughing at how much of a fool Misaki had made of herself, but even if that was the case, Misaki didn’t care. Sakuko was happy.

“Fushimi-kun, Yata-san, so glad you could make it.” The girls looked up at the sound of the Blue King’s voice. “You both look lovely. Though I didn’t expect to see you in a dress, or dancing for that matter.” He commented to Sakuko.

Sakuko clicked her tongue once more and gestured to Misaki as if to blame her.

Reisi laughed. “Well then, may I have a dance? I believe this may be my only opportunity ever to do so.”

Sakuko sighed reluctantly. “Fine.” She released Misaki’s hand.

“W-want me to grab you a drink?” Misaki offered quickly.

“Please.” Sakuko responded, then allowed Reisi to lead her back onto the dance floor.

Misaki hurried over to the bar, trying to keep her back to them as much as possible as she ordered a beer for herself and a martini for Sakuko. When she turned back around with the drinks, Reisi and Sakuko were far too close together for her liking. He said something, and Sakuko laughed. Bile rose in the back of her throat as Misaki stalked over to the table Izumo sat at and dropped heavily into a seat. _Was this how Sakuko felt when she saw me laughing with Mikoto…?_ She dismissed the thought. There’s no way anyone could have thought she fancied Mikoto.

Before she could continue that line of thought any further, Izumo spoke up. “What’s with you?”

“Nothing. Where’s Awashima?” She changed the subject quickly.

“She went to the bathroom, and she’s going to fetch drinks on the way back. So what is with you?” He pressed.

Misaki sighed, unable to stop her gaze from flickering back over to where Reisi and Sakuko stood, swaying in time with one another, much closer together than Misaki would ever have liked to see Sakuko to her (remarkably handsome) King.

“Jealous?” Izumo observed.

Misaki huffed indignantly.

“Jealous because your friend has other friends or jealous because she’s dancing with an attractive man?”

“W-what the fuck are you suggesting?” The threat in her voice was somewhat diluted by the stuttering.

“I’m suggesting that you don’t like seeing the two of them dancing over there.” He said with a coy smile. “Now, whether or not that’s because you don’t like that she’s got other friends now, not just you, or because she’s getting too close to tall dark and handsome over there for your liking… I couldn’t say.”

“I-I am not just mad because she’s got other friends!” She huffed. “I’m not that freakin’ petty. I’m glad she’s happy with the blues and all, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“W-well, look how close he is to her! She hates people getting up in her personal space.”

“Don’t you think she’d push him away if she was uncomfortable? You know Fushimi, she’s not above being rude.”

Misaki chewed on her lip, suddenly anxious.

Izumo laughed. “Calm down Yata-chan. Munakata is like that with everyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has no concept of personal space, but everyone at Sceptre 4 is used to it by now so they don’t think anything of it. That’s what Seri said to me when I got jealous of her getting a little too close to him for my taste.”

“I-I’m not jealous! We’re just friends.”

“That’s now how it seems to me.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Well I’ll admit I don’t know Fushimi as well as you do, but the Fushimi I remember wouldn’t dance, or wear a dress, or share a bed. You just said she hates people getting up in her personal space. But you wanted to dance, and you liked the dress, and you were the one drunk in the middle of the night half way across town from your apartment…”

“How the hell do you know about all of that?”

“Gossip travels fast at Sceptre 4, and Seri keeps me up to date on it all.”

“W-well, we aren’t dating or anything like that, so with all due respect you should keep your nose out.”

Izumo chuckled. “Forgive me, I’m just being curious. Seri says she’s never seen Fushimi this open with anyone before. Usually she’d kill anyone who crossed her boundaries, but she lets you pretty much do anything. A person can’t help but wonder.”

“Wait, are you saying you think she likes me? Like… in that way?” Misaki forgot herself for a moment, the sudden burst of hope that she might have been wrong in her assessment that there was no way Sakuko would ever be interested in her momentarily overwhelmed her embarrassment.

“I couldn’t say. But she definitely lets ya get away with more than she lets Munakata get away with, so there’s no need to go all green-eyed-monster over him.”

“I’m not jealous of him!” She protested.

“You’re a bad liar, Yata-chan.”

“Whatever. It’s none of your business.”

“I know, I just don’t like seeing you upset. If she was dating Munakata, Seri would know, which means I would know. Besides, she’s your best friend, don’t you think she would tell you if she had a boyfriend?”

“She’s a private person, she might not feel the need. She doesn’t tell me everything, I don’t tell her everything.”

“Maybe you _should_ start being more open with her. Whether or not you have a crush on her is none of my business, you’re right.” Misaki opened her mouth to agree, but Izumo continued speaking, cutting her off. “But the whole reason you two fell out in the first place is because you didn’t communicate with each other. I’m not telling you to bare your heart and soul to her or any o’ that nonsense. But if you’re upset, you should talk to her.” Misaki sighed, and then he added: “Especially because you being upset about her choosing her King over you is exactly what happened the first time around.”

“She’s not choosing him over me; he just asked her to dance.” Though it wasn’t like Sakuko had never chosen Reisi over her; her leaving Homra to join Sceptre 4 was exhibit A, and even though Misaki had accepted that Sakuko could never have been happy in Homra and she was glad that she had found her place with the Blues, the memory was still a raw wound.

“Which you took to think she was interested in him. And if they were dating, that would mean she was putting him before you, would it not?”

Misaki sighed. “I still don’t see why you feel the need to stick your nose in like this.” She grumbled.

Izumo tousled her hair gently. “Because you’re like my little sister, dummy. I saw how upset you were when you and Sakuko fell out, and I saw how happy you were when you made up again. I wanna see you stay happy this time; you deserve something good.”

“T-thanks.”

“I’m gonna go help Seri with the drinks, alright?” He said, then got to his feet and headed over to the bar.

Misaki sighed, taking a deep swig from her glass, thinking about what Izumo had said. It was almost as if he had known that she had just decided not to tell Sakuko she was in love with her. Or fancied her. Or whatever. She hadn’t changed her mind about that; Sakuko couldn’t know, she couldn’t risk making everything weird between them. But maybe it would be a good idea to tell her about the Munakata thing. She should be honest with her about how she was feeling. Maybe not about the crush, but if she was upset, she should tell Sakuko, because Izumo was right, it was exactly the not telling each other when they were upset that drove them apart in the first place.

Misaki turned to look at Reisi and Sakuko, who were still dancing as the song neared its end, and she was struck by the sudden thought: what if Sakuko _did_ get into a relationship with someone else? Even if she wasn’t with Reisi, there were plenty of attractive guys in Sceptre 4 who Sakuko saw every day and was probably very close to. Men she fought alongside, whose backs she had, who she trusted to have hers. And Sakuko was totally gorgeous; it wasn’t like she would have trouble getting someone to date her. As long as Sakuko didn’t know Misaki was interested in her, there was always the possibility that she would find someone else, and what would Misaki do then? Even just the thought of it made her feel ill. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stomach seeing Sakuko with someone else, and that would destroy their friendship just as quickly as Sakuko finding out about her having a crush, possibly even faster. Misaki wouldn’t be able to hang around and watch someone else put their hands all over her Sakuko; she’d get far too jealous and start feel neglected, just as Sakuko had five years ago, possibly even more so. After all, it’s not like Sakuko had been in love with Misaki while she watched her choose Mikoto and Homra over her. Misaki knew she wasn’t strong enough for her friendship with Sakuko to survive her getting a boyfriend, or even worse, a girlfriend. The thought of her dating a man was bad enough, but her dating a girl who wasn’t her? Misaki couldn’t stand the idea. Her jealousy would manifest itself as hatred, and she would end up saying something hurtful. They’d fight, they’d fall out, and things would go right back to how they had been.

But what was the alternative? Telling her? Misaki wasn’t sure what would be worse, being rejected, or being left behind. Perhaps being honest with herself hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakuko's dress is based on [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/96/fd/15/96fd15ef29bbd95240e8e2f3e59ee3bb.jpg) and Misaki's is based on [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/3e/91/6e/3e916e06c7a658ceab9d873782a45884.jpg).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakuko and Misaki's confusion about their feelings is only made worse by their suspicions that the other has feelings for their respective King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a drabble prompt on Tumblr sent by anonymous: Sakuko and Misaki "thinking they like their respective kings and getting jealous"
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/146255818794/being-honest-part-22)

For the rest of the evening, there’d been a faintly stiff quality to Misaki’s voice and she spent most of the time staring at her phone, or gazing absently into the crowd without saying a word. At first, Sakuko had attributed it to her feeling uncomfortable around so many Blue clansmen, or simple boredom- dances weren't exactly her scene- but the unpleasantness she exuded felt somehow different to either of those.

The moment they’d shown their faces for the minimum acceptable length of time, Sakuko suggested that they leave before the drink really started flowing and things got a bit too rowdy for either of their tastes. Misaki agreed eagerly, though in her eagerness was also a certain lethargy, the kind you might hear in the voice of someone who felt vastly unwell but was doing their best to disguise it. As they stepped out into the cool evening air to call a taxi, Sakuko had asked her quietly if she was feeling okay, and Misaki had responded with just a quick nod that did nothing to assuage her concerns. So under the guise of not wanting Misaki to have to pay for a cab all the way across the city back to her apartment, Sakuko offered to let her stay over with her at the Sceptre 4 dormitories again, though in reality she just wanted to keep an eye on her. There may also have been an element of wanting to wake up next to her again, and she berated herself internally for indulging those thoughts, but it was too late now; Misaki had agreed to go with her.

In the cab ride back, Misaki remained quiet, gazing out of the window with a faint crease forming between her eyebrows. Sakuko watched her out of the corner of her eye, her concern building by the minute as she ran through the possibilities of what it could be that was keeping her normally fiery friend so subdued. She wasn't drunk, and there was no indication that she was feeling unwell, and she didn't seem to want to talk about it. What was it that she didn't want Sakuko to know?

When they got back to the dorm, Misaki sat heavily on the bed and slipped off her shoes, and Sakuko took a seat beside her, removing the pins from her hair that had held in place all evening to let it fall loose, then combing through it with her fingers.

"You should wear your hair down more often; it looks nice." Misaki commented, her voice quiet.

"Thanks... Misaki, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine..." Misaki sighed, almost seeming to cringe at how obvious the lie was. "Just..." She gazed up at the ceiling for a moment, appearing to be trying to think of something to say, and when she finally answered there was a tinge of dishonesty to her voice. "Nothing. I'm fine, just don't feel very well."

"You're a bad liar, Misaki. We're supposed to be communicating better. We agreed, remember?" Sakuko said pointedly.

Misaki's eyes flickered around the room, almost in panic, as though looking for some excuse. Finally, she sighed and gave in, her eyes fixed on her fingers where they fiddled with the hem of her dress. "I couldn't help but notice... you and Munakata were very... close..." She spoke slowly, pausing often as though the words were snagging in her throat and she had to force them out.

"He doesn't have any concept of personal space."

"Right..." Misaki didn't sound convinced.

"Why does it bother you so much anyway? I'm used to it; he wasn't being creepy or making me uncomfortable if that's what you're worried about. He knows where my boundaries are."

"It's not that... I..." Misaki huffed another sigh, seeming unable to find the words to explain why it was bugging her.

"I'm not as close to him as you were to Mikoto, if that's what you're worried about." There was an edge of bitterness to Sakuko's tone. She wasn’t sure where the impatient quip came from; she’d said it almost without meaning to.

"What do you mean..?"

"I mean my relationship with him is mostly professional. He's my King, and that’s pretty much it. Yeah, he's offered me support through some of the shittier times, and maybe he’d call me his friend even if I wouldn’t call him mine, but it doesn't go much deeper than that. Yeah, I did sleep with him once but-"

"You slept with him?!" Misaki looked horrified.

Sakuko clicked her tongue. "Once. But we were both drunk, and he was grieving; it was only a month or so after Mikoto died."

Misaki flinched at the mention of her King's death, and Sakuko couldn’t help but feel faint disgust at how much it still hurt her, though she felt immensely guilty for it. Of course it would hurt her to talk about her King’s death, but Sakuko couldn’t stop herself from despising the fact that it did, despising that he ever mattered so much to her in the first place.

"And I was... Well, I was how I always was while we hated each other: horribly depressed." There was a sort of dark sarcasm to her tone as she spoke bluntly of her wavering mental health. "We distracted each other for an hour; that was all it was. I didn't even like it that much. Not that he was bad; he wasn’t."

Sakuko noticed that Misaki was gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw shook slightly. She thought she saw a tears glimmering faintly in the corners of her eyes.

"But I just... I'm not into one night stands or impersonal sex, I guess. Just makes me feel dirty afterwards."

Misaki was speechless, her lips pressed tightly closed as she stared at her fingers. There were definitely tears in her eyes now, tears of rage, the kind that burned her eyes as they blurred her vision. It took her a long moment before she finally found words. "What the hell?" Her voice wavered almost imperceptibly, barely above a whisper and low with quiet, burning hatred. 

"Why the hell does it bother you so much anyway?" Sakuko's tone was terse. "I slept with my King once; so what? It's none of your damn business if I did. And it's not like you didn't do so much worse!"

"What the fuck do you mean I did 'so much worse'?!” she shouted, and the sudden volume made Sakuko jump slightly, but she kept her composure.

"The way you gazed at him and laughed with him like a little lost puppy used to make me sick. It couldn't have been more obvious that you were screwing him." Sakuko snapped.

Misaki blinked in shock, silent for a few seconds before the incredulity subsided enough for her to speak. "I wasn't screwing him! I didn't even...!" Her voice dropped all of a sudden, and she murmured: "Is that why you left? Because you thought I was dating him and didn’t have time for you anymore?"

She clicked her tongue. "It's a little more complicated than that, but yeah, that was part of the reason. You were the only person in the world who cared about me, the only person who mattered to me." Her words were quiet, and the effort it took her to force them past her lips was palpable. "And to see you suddenly make all these new friends and leave me behind while I couldn't seem to fit in, to see you _fall in love_ with someone else, for you to be my most important person, but for you not to be mine... yeah, it hurt." She said bitterly.

"I wasn't in love with him!" Misaki's voice was adamant. "He was my King, just like Munakata is yours. I looked up to him, and I felt at home at Homra, but I didn't want in his freaking pants!" She was too angry for the mention of sex to embarrass her.

"Oh, like I'm going to believe that. The way you used to trail around after him, simpering about how cool "Mikoto-san" was..." She imitated her voice in a mocking drawl.

"I _wasn't_ in love with him!" Misaki insisted again, and a tear of frustration spilled over her lashes and onto her cheek.

Sakuko couldn't let herself believe it. After all these years of being so convinced that Misaki was in love with him, the idea that she had been wrong, that all the things she thought she saw were just a trick of the light, that she had mistaken the normal devotion a clansman had to their King for something else... she couldn't, she _couldn't._ It couldn't have all been in her head; the pain that it had caused her for all these years had been very, very real. Sakuko pushed on, spitting the words through gritted teeth. Her fingers twitched, aching to rake her nails across the burning itch on her collarbone. "Bullshit." She insisted.

"Sakuko, I'm _gay!"_ Misaki half-sobbed the word.

 Sakuko froze, feeling as though her insides had turned to ice, watching as Misaki pulled her knees up to her chest. There was a long moment of agonising silence before she spoke, meekly: "I... I didn't know..." She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

"Yeah. Because I never told anyone," she muttered.

A wave of guilt wracked Sakuko's body; there must have been a reason Misaki had never told her, and yet Sakuko had forced the confession out of her before she was ready.

"Why not?" Her voice was soft, the malice that had been dripping from it moments before having evaporated in an instant. "You know I wouldn't have judged you..."

"It's not that I thought anyone was going to be a jerk about it... just..." Something in Misaki seemed to snap at that moment. Whatever it was that was that was stopping up her throat vanished, and everything that she didn’t dare to speak before, all of the words that had been caught behind it spilled out at once. Her speech was hurried, and occasionally interrupted by quiet sobs. She buried her face in her knees, but Sakuko could see the light glinting off the tears that drenched her cheeks.

"I couldn't tell you because I was in love with you! But I couldn’t ever be honest with myself and accept it because there was no way you'd ever love me back, so I couldn't give any ground to all those intrusive fucking thoughts about how much I wanted to kiss your stupid smirking mouth all the time, because if I didn't stop squashing them down and pretending they didn't exist they would fucking _ruin_ me! I love you so much that it _hurts,_ and if I let myself keep thinking about you in that way all the time it would just wreck everything… I didn't want to make things weird with us when we were younger and living together, and then you started to get so distant and I knew there was no way you'd ever like me back because it seemed like you hated me, and then you _did_ hate me, and now you don't and we're friends again and I can't ruin that by making it awkward because I thought you were dating Munakata and you'd just have turned me down and then what? I'd never be able to look you in the eye! _I can't lose you again._ I can't. You're my best friend and I love you more than anyone else in the world. Even when I hated you, I loved you, and it used to piss me off so much and I used to wake up in the middle of the night crying like a fucking idiot because I was the moron who fell in love with a girl I could never have!"

"Why did you think you couldn't have me?" Sakuko’s voice was quiet.

Misaki laughed darkly. "You hated me for years, and even when you didn’t, have you seen me, compared to you? You’re a fucking knock-out- tall and willowy and smart and gorgeous and next to you I'm tiny and flat-chested and short-fused and I'm not girly or pretty or anything like that, I’m just-"

"You're beautiful." Sakuko cut in.

Misaki froze, then finally lifted her head to look at her.

"I never hated you, Misaki. I just hated that you seemed to prefer Homra over me." She sighed quietly. "It's like I told you when we were talking our shit out... you were the only person in the world that mattered to me, and to feel like I didn't matter to you was the worst thing imaginable. That's why I used to try and provoke you. Because if you were fighting me and hurting me, it meant you at least knew who I was. I _needed_ you, even if the only attention I could get from you was you trying to kill me, I would have gone mad without it."

"What are you saying...?"

"I'm saying that I love you too." Sakuko's gaze dropped to fix on the carpet. As soon as those words fell past her lips, the weight of all the feelings she had suppressed for all those years, of all the things she'd left unsaid for so long, fell away from her, and the void they left behind was filled instantly by a heavy knot of terror. She had passed the point of no return, and now only two options remained. There was no staying where she was, happy that she at least had Misaki as her best friend. Things would either fall into place, or fall apart, and all she could do was press forward. "I love you so much that being hurt by you was preferable to you not noticing that I existed at all. I always loved you, ever since we were teenagers."

"Sakuko..."

Slowly, she looked up, and met Misaki's eyes. Tears clung to the dark fan of lashes that framed the warm, dark gold irises, and smeared her mascara beneath her eyes, but she was looking at Sakuko as if she'd never seen anything clearly before in her life until that moment. There was a look of epiphany on her face, a look of hope, and a tiny smile curved the corners of her lips, despite her tears.

"I love you," Sakuko whispered once more, and the words escaped her lips without her ever intending to say them.

The next thing she knew, she was toppling backwards onto the bed, bowled over by Misaki’s bodyweight as she threw herself at Sakuko and flung her arms around her shoulders, clinging to her like a lifeline. Sakuko instinctively held her close, wrapping one arm around Misaki’s narrow waist, and tangling the fingers of the other in her hair. She could feel Misaki’s small frame trembling with the sobs that tore up her throat, and the dampness of her tears dripping onto her shoulder.

“Shhh… what’s wrong?” Sakuko murmured.

Misaki sniffled quietly, taking a moment to steady her breathing enough to get her words out. “N-nothing… I’m _happy…_ ” She gave a little shaky sigh, almost of relief. “I never thought you’d like me back, not in a million years. I thought I was going to have to live like that forever. It was _horrible-_ I couldn’t breathe when you were around, my mouth was always dry and I couldn’t think straight, and I felt so guilty for wanting to spend time with you because I knew I had an ulterior motive. I used to think about how much I loved you and _cry_ like some kind of love-struck idiot from a shitty chick-flick because I wanted you so bad but I thought I’d never have you…”

Sakuko gave a small nod. “I know exactly what you mean…”

Misaki pressed her face closer into Sakuko’s shoulder, seeming comforted that she felt the same way, after a moment, she asked hesitantly: “So… what does this mean...?”

“Hmm?” Sakuko pulled her head back to look Misaki in the face.

“Are we like… girlfriends now or something?”

“If you want to be.”

Misaki gave a small, vehement nod, and Sakuko couldn’t help but smile. Gently, she cupped Misaki’s jaw and lifted her head to meet her eyes, and at the intensity of Sakuko’s stare, a faint blush blossomed across Misaki’s cheeks. They were close enough to one another that they could feel each other’s breath ghosting across their lips, and goosebumps prickled across the bare skin of Misaki’s arms beneath Sakuko’s fingers. The air between them seemed to be charged with static as they slowly leaned in, as though drawn together by one another’s gravity. When their lips finally met, the kiss was soft and chaste, but the contact was pregnant with the years of desperate suppressed longing that, now it had finally been released from behind the dams that had held it back for so long, poured out of them all at once. They clung to one another as if they half-feared that none of this was real, that at any moment they would wake up and find this had been a cruel, bittersweet dream.

The kiss broke after what felt like forever, but still hadn’t quite been long enough, and their eyes fluttered open slowly, and their gazes clicked for a moment before Misaki screwed her eyes shut once more and buried her face in Sakuko’s neck, her shoulders trembling silently.

“Misaki?” Sakuko asked in alarm.

After a few seconds, a sound finally bubbled past Misaki’s lips and it became clear that she wasn’t crying, but giggling.

Sakuko gave a sigh of relief, running her fingers through Misaki’s hair. “What is it?”

“Just… if someone had told me two hours ago that I’d have a girlfriend, and that she’d be _you_ …” Misaki couldn’t finish the sentence through peals of laughter, and Sakuko chuckled along with her; her laughter at the ludicrousness of the situation was infectious. Within a few moments, the pair were tearing up into one another’s shoulders, their bodies wracked with giggles that made their sides ache and had them struggling for breath.

The giggling fit didn’t subside for a good few minutes. Misaki took a deep breath to steady herself, then grimaced and said: “I need to go and get changed; this push-up bra is killing me.”

Sakuko nodded and got to her feet, fishing out another shirt from her drawer for Misaki to borrow, then changed into a sleepshirt of her own and wiped off her makeup while Misaki was in the bathroom. When she returned, Sakuko was lying in bed, her eyes fixated on Misaki’s bare legs as she watched her cross the room to perch on the edge of the mattress beside her. Evidently, she’d noticed Sakuko staring; her cheeks were flushed faintly pink.

“You looked beautiful tonight,” Sakuko mused, which only deepened Misaki’s blush.

“T-thanks…”

Sakuko patted the sheets beside her, and Misaki obeyed and lay down, pulling the covers over herself and settling into Sakuko’s arms. “Apparently I wasn’t the only one who noticed, though,” Sakuko added in a grumble.

“What do you mean?”

“There were a fair few Blue clansmen who had their eye on you all night, and I kept overhearing snippets of gossip about ‘the hot Red chick’, mostly from Hidaka. I was in half a mind to punch them…” There was a vaguely possessive undertone to her voice as she spoke.  

Misaki chuckled softly at Sakuko’s frustration, and ran a comforting hand through her hair. “It’s okay,” she murmured, “I’m yours.”

Sakuko’s expression softened into a faint smile, then she shifted their positions to spoon Misaki, who snuggled in happily against her. They lay like that for a long while as Misaki traced patterns on the back of Sakuko’s hand with her fingertip, and Sakuko combed her own fingers through Misaki’s hair. Neither of them felt the need to speak.

As they lay there, Sakuko noticed that she could breathe easier now; the guilt and uncertainty and aching longing that had been constricting her lungs and weighing her down for so many years had vanished, blown away like smoke in the wind. In its place, there was only warmth- the warmth of Misaki’s tiny frame in her arms, the warmth of her kisses, the warmth that seemed to radiate from Misaki’s skin every moment of every day. She was a bright person, the kind of person who shone with passion and enthusiasm, and Sakuko felt as though a little bit of that light seeped into herself every moment she held her.

Eventually, they slipped off to sleep in the warmth of one another’s arms.

Once again, it was Sakuko who woke first as the sunlight pouring in through the open curtains kissed her eyelids. The first thing she noticed once she opened her eyes was Misaki’s frame pressed against her own, still encircled in her embrace. As Sakuko admired how beautiful she looked as she dreamed, the memories of the previous evening came drifting back and a faint smile fluttered across her lips. Just like the first night Misaki had slept in her arms a few days ago, she was smiling in her sleep, and her long lashes cast longer shadows across her freckled cheeks. The morning sunlight picked out fiery highlights in her hair.

Sakuko pressed a kiss to the top of her head, savouring the peace of the moment. It felt as though nothing else in the world existed outside of that bed, nothing in the world except the girl in her arms.

_My girlfriend._

The prospect sent an odd sensation proliferating through Sakuko’s abdomen; it was such a foreign concept to her after so many years of trying to convince herself it would never happen. Yet here Sakuko was, holding Misaki’s sleeping figure in her arms, her lips still tingling with the kiss they’d shared the night before. She found herself inadvertently pulling Misaki closer, and at the tightening of Sakuko’s embrace, Misaki stirred, stretching lazily as her eyelashes parted. Her movements were slow and sleepy as she rolled over in Sakuko’s arms to face her, burying her face in her chest.

“Mornin’…” she mumbled.

“Morning,” Sakuko replied with a smile, brushing a stray lock of Misaki’s hair off her face with her fingertips.

There was another long moment before Misaki spoke again. “Last night… was all that real? I didn’t dream that?” she asked tentatively.

Sakuko responded by tilting Misaki’s head up to face her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and she felt them curl upwards into a smile against her own. Sakuko couldn’t help but smile with her. All of the pain of the last few years, all of the scars that they’d gathered, that they’d given each other, seemed faded, obscure. Like an old photograph of a time not-quite forgotten, but that would never be returned to. In its place was an overwhelming feeling of joy, so intense that Sakuko’s heart ached with the strength of it. Sakuko could see why Misaki had to ask if it was real or not; she hadn’t known it was possible to feel this completely content. There had been very few moments in Sakuko’s life in which she could say she was really, truly happy, but she had a feeling those moments would happen a lot more often from now on.


End file.
